"Cupid's Apprentice"
Summary: "…Want to know something? You're going to die soon. And I happen to be involved with your life – the reason to live, actually…" Amore, Mahal, love, whatever phrase you put me in, one thing will never change: It's my job. Of course, I have 'helpers' – not just cherubs, mind you – and they all have to follow one easy rule: Don't fall in love, yourself. Ha. Let's see how well this plan goes with a fallen angel on our hands, one who needs a good smacking' on her behind – oh, I said too much; continue, my dear. I can't give out everything, can I? Just pay attention to – how do kids say it these days? – Them colors. Yeah, that sounds right…
© Riordan – Percy Jackson © C.A Francisco – "Cupid's Apprentice"
-This fan fiction was made from the author's imagination. If there are other stories similar to this, the author did not know, did not intend, and did not plagiarize; if this actually happened to anyone in real life, dead or alive, rich or poor, she did not intend that to happen as well-
Dedicated To: Mommy, Sandra, and the forum~
[A/N]: this story takes place in an Alternate Universe, and the couples aren't exactly together…yet. No demigods, but there are Roman and Greek gods in this. If you don't like the pairings I use, don't say I didn't warn you. Who are the main characters? Leo, Reyna, and – of course, our star! – Rachel. May contain spoilers for the SoN.
Enjoy.
Prologue
Let the narrator introduce himself
Silver and gold.
Remember these colors, and the rest of the circle as well – not just the rainbow, but primary and secondary, mind you. Now, I do not care if this isn't art class, you will listen to what I say, do, and hear. Do I have your attention? Of course I do; I'm just that special.
Remember these things – they're very important, like winning a medal, like a new life being formed from dust…or a fallen angel, according to this matter. But winning a medal, forming a new life, creating an angel is not why you're here, hmm? The answer: maybe.
Maybe.
It's a strong word with double meanings, but not as strong as hate.
You're mortal, right? I sense a vibration as you read these words; your color, dark like chocolate or sweeter than a mint, is strong, very healthy. But still, you're mortal. A little, beautifully known fact: you're going to die. You can't escape Death. He'll serenade you into an endless sleep after the strings have been cut, stand over your lifeless body, then carry you away like the bastard he is.
Now, I'm not mean. But I'm not nice either. Hades, I don't even know the right words to describe me. I'm furtive, I suppose, and so is my counterpart, Eros. I don't let people cajole or badger me, mock or challenge me, bribe or ask me what to do; I have my own rules. Disrespect is nowhere in my vocabulary – heck, what does that word even mean?
So, what are the correct words that define me? Sentimental? Sympathetic? Of course. Most definitely. I mean, if I'm in a good mood, you know. Now, if I'm in a bad mood... let's just say that you don't want to know what I'll do.
I either see gold or silver when I'm near a couple, a buzzing in my ear if they're meant to be, one that doesn't stop until I do…something. Anything.
Remember your first crush? Your first heartbreak? Your first love? I'm the reason why you shed those tears, why your heart was like a drum for my enjoyment. And I usually pick on kids in middle or high school, elementary being too young and not as dramatic for my taste. What? I know my debts! Thank me, the cherubs – both of the Greek and Roman companies. Yes, companies. Blame the idiot who imagined me as a freaking baby in a diaper!
Oh well, just know this: I let you be happy in the end. Or sad. Whatever the Fates decide.
Now, let's continue with this story; I've said too much…
So it begins
…
Chapter 1
…
The ideal scenery: The stars are out, the night being pitch-black, Diana's beloved chariot riding through the dance of the Winds and guiding travelers; the last day of summer camp, lights and buzzling, campers and their families around the borders and having fun; but there is a mixture of anger and sadness in the air, regret and sorry, between two leaders in purple.
Flaming Red
5 years ago
"How dare you!" Reyna cries, gripping onto her toy spear, one that matched her costume. This was the first time she had lost control like a little kid, something she never experienced until now, because of her – oh, how my angel entertains us so. Angrily, her pace increases. "Let him go!"
The girl in the purple cloak lets go, hood on, her eyes unseen. She smirks, attention towards Jason, "You enjoyed my kiss, Hon?"
Jason's eye are wide in shock, his lips covered in lipstick, fresh like strawberries. Her soft, porcelain hands held his face like a cup, one so fragile like it could break at any minute. Wow, she could've gone with cherry, but she chooses the cheapest one from the vending machine instead? Wow. And yes, I do know I said 'Wow' two times in one sentence, thank you very much!
Any who, back to the story: Reyna's angry—blah, blah, blah—the girl just kissed him—blah, blah, blah—and Jason's in utter shock. Yeah, sorry 'bout that folks!
I stand there, watching from the distance, chucking to myself, watching my future apprentice.
"You are not a praetor, a graecus are you?" spits Reyna, as though she were a Roman warrior. "Why are you wearing that? Who are you?" she grabs the wrist of the girl in purple, eyes like an eagles, darker than a shade of coal, yet there are bright flames in her intense glare.
The girl giggles as Reyna's grip tightens. In a charming manner, she replies, "I am someone far more greater than you will ever be, Daughter of Bellona - that's what you are tonight, right? Kind of stupid, how they pick the names through a hat. My work here is done." She walks away, just like that, the cloak behind her, dragging onto the floor. "Goo–"
"Your job is to run around, kissing another girl's boyfriend? Wearing a cloak to hide your fugly face?" Reyna follows her, across the stone bridge.
"—dbye. And, the answer to your question: yes. I do run around, kissing a girls' boyfriend, to break them up—you see, it is my job, my duty. For some reason, you look familiar…" She doesn't bother to turn around, just keeps on walking.
"Yeah, I'm probably the girl who's going to beat you up—"
"…Words are useless against me. Just know that you and Jason aren't meant to be, okay? Get this through your big, black thick skull: the R.R.S sent me, one of their RB's, to break you two up because his real true love is coming. I don't when, nor do I know how. But. Soon. Now, here's a card—"
"What?" Reyna grabs the little piece of a stupid, golden rectangle and rips it into shreds in less than thirty seconds. "Your costume is so stupid! And your job? What's that supposed to mean - Retards Roaming Stupidly? What do you mean that 'his true love is coming soon'? I've known him longer than anyone else! I've been his girlfriend for more than five years!"
She sighs, "Look, I've got more stops to go to. We'll make sure that your love life will turn out okay, Reyna. Just quite being a whiny female dog. Oh, and I know that you weren't faithful to Jason…"
Of course she did; she had Reyna's file and records with her, thanks to the Guardian angels, but where was her's?
I loathe people like you. Traitor.
And I love you too. Spread the love!
Reyna screams at her, calling the girl in purple horrible things while her dented spear is raised, but it is no use for it is not made out of celestrial bronze. Also, her job here is done. The Mist takes over, infecting their brains—just like what I taught my trainees to do: Manipulate the Mist after they're done, mortals making it much easier. The fog blocks out the memory of the girl, as if nothing happened. Reyna blinks, dazed, unsure of what happened, and how. This process takes less than a minute.
Smirking, the girl in the purple cloak disappears, leaving Reyna there, sad and lonely, confused, but she only knows one thing: Jason broke up with her.
I wonder why she broke them up early... A love triangle would be so special, dramatic, beautiful even! A funny thing!
And that, my pet, is the star of this story, my so-called "apprentice." Lovely gal, isn't she? Kissing boys like they're her toys. Just like my mother. It's her job.
…
Rachel—otherwise known as Analissa, in her mortal form, a disguise—opens the door, the time being passed midnight; she silently creeps into the dorm, closing it behind her, and heads for the restroom to take a shower, ignoring the Chinese food and beer set on the table, her favorite snack.
One of her roommates—Thalia Grace—slept quietly in her bunks, softly snoring a chorus of snores in her black blanket or warmth. Her spiky hair covered her face.
What a long day; breaking and making couples, hearing the constant lectures of one of her co-workers about how tight and itchy the thongs were just tired her in ways you could've ever imagined. She sighs, and takes off her filthy clothes.
She needed a cigar. Yes, just one cigar! She needed one lit up and ready; she would go on the roof and admire the view, painting all of the colors and stars, choosing a brush indiscriminately. It'll help her get through this mess, I mean, if that bracelet was on her for any longer, her body would get messed up. And I do not want anything bad happening to her.
"Rach, where the hell have you been?" a yawn escapes Annabeth's mouth, and she puts her pencil down.
Annabeth, her other roomate, literally had her doman in the center of their apartment - a dorm, they decided to call it - and lived on the coach, near the table where all of her work (both homework and other crap) was. As if being in college was hard enough, step into her shoes... that is, if you could actually fit in them. Annabeth Chase was the girl you didn't want to mess with, the one who got straight A's and finished a lap faster than any boy could; but she was also known for not being the cute-girl-next-door, the person who would just laugh if you said that you were better than her. At anything.
She had dark circles under her intense stormy gray eyes, and her princess-like curls were messy; she looked nothing like Rachel, whose hair was the shade of cherries (like love, actually) and eyes as green as an emerald, envy or jealousy, as though it were reflecting Reyna's reaction before the mist did her work.
It's kind of funny how they became friends; Rachel made Annabeth cuss at her the way Reyna did because they "weren't meant to be."
"Can I ask you why you aren't sleeping, Annie Beth? You know you should. Girl, you look like a zombie,"
She is too tired to glare at her. "Ha, you're so funny! Look who's talking," Chase replies, stretching. "But seriously, doesn't your so-called "work" end at nine or something like that?"
"Worked over time,"
"Of course you did. It's such a shame we can't go to the park, or hang out or something like that with Thalia." Rachel looks at a knife on the table, the same one that Annabeth threw at her. Ah, memories.
Okay, I know what you're thinking: Now, how does Annie Beth remember Rachel? The answer: She made a promise. Or something like that.
Rache replies, "Says the chick who wants to marry the Statue of Liberty. We can hang out some time... Maybe during break?"
"That sounds like... fun." Here's Annabeth's description of fun: Winning, desiging stuff, throwing knives at people who later end up becoming her friend.
Rachel laughs. "Yeah, fun. I'm going to go take a shower now."
The restroom was small, the door being wooden and creaky, the door seeking Annabeth's adroit hands that worked quicky; but the inside was better, the floor covered in white towels. Thalia, being full of disgust with the wallpaper, decided to give the place a new "paint-job," giving the steamy room a dark look to it. Annabeth literally freaked out when the gray background was gone, until Rachel told her that she could "apply" whatever gray artifact she wanted inside.
As she closes the silver knob securely, her clothes fall, and she heads torwards the mirror. As she sees her reflection, she frowned, and remembered her past. The same past she wanted to forget. That's a reason why she lives here, right?
Shaking her head, she splashes cold water from the small sink on her face multiple times, letting the freezing water run down her chin, down her chest. "C'mon, Rach… They're sleeping. Kind of. Just accept the damn truth!"
Her green eyes opens as the towel falls, and her bracelet—silver and gold—is placed upon the countertop.
Then, what's left of her wings spread, feathers covering the floor, her body naked and exposed, majestic and beautiful.
This is Rachel's true self, the one she hid for so long. There stands a fallen angel, one who works for me; one who is a workaholic, a drug addict; one who can't fall in love. Again.
...
Confirmed pairings I'm ready to share: Percy and Annabeth (their love story will make you scream!); Travis and Katie; Grover and Juniper; Clarisse and Chris.
Deciding: ThaliaxLuke, or ThaliaxNico; JasonxPiper
Other pairings are not to be shared out loud.
I may or may not continue this... Is it good? Bad? Tell moi. Sorry if it's, uh, confusing... And the shortness.
Feel free to point out mistakes